Chapter 433: Awakening
Chapter 433: Awakening
Ping—
Seven Kill’s hand withdrew just in time. Protected by his steel-lock gauntlet, his palm caught the sleeve sword with perfect precision.
“Enough of this nonsense,” Seven Kill said coldly, his eyes like ice. It was a declaration—he was about to get serious.
Xiao Tan twisted his wrist, snapping his own sleeve sword in half to break free from Seven Kill’s control. He immediately retaliated with a claw blade, slashing toward his opponent.
Bang—
The sound of a fist crashing into flesh echoed.
But it sounded more like a speeding car colliding with a bull.
As Xiao Tan raised his hand, Seven Kill’s punch already slammed into his chest.
This blow, though launched second, struck first—faster than lightning.
A torrent of blood erupted from Wang Tan Zhi’s mouth as his body hurtled backward.
At that moment, every spectator fell silent. They held their breath, eyes locked on the screen, replaying the horrifying impact in their minds.
Seven Kill’s punch wasn’t a skill—it was the result of unleashing his Soul Intent: “Ultimate Fist.”
The effect of this Soul Intent was brutally straightforward. It allowed him to unleash a punch that represented the absolute limit of his physical capabilities. You could consider it a weakened version of Si Yu’s “Limit Efficiency.”
Naturally, the reduced effect meant reduced consumption. While Seven Kill’s spiritual energy consumption in the Ultimate Fist state was still significant, it paled in comparison to Si Yu’s.
A cold breeze swept across the barren wasteland…
Xiao Tan lay on the ground, his vitality value at 36%. His shattered ribs had pierced his organs, inflicting a permanent bleeding status effect that no bandages could cure.
That single blow had nearly shattered his chance of victory.
At the moment of impact, his breathing and blood flow had frozen like icy wind. In his eyes, time itself had seemed to stop. He hadn’t even felt pain—just a sudden lag in the world around him before his body floated backward. When he regained consciousness, agonizing pain surged through every inch of him.
Fear… so familiar. He’d felt this before. Back then… he’d lain on the ground just like this, helplessly watching a towering figure approach him.
The sensation was both hazy and vivid…
…
Ten years ago, in S City.
In a narrow alley, four young thugs in their twenties were beating a high school student far smaller than them.
In a corner of the dead-end alley, another boy in a junior high uniform crouched, trembling. He was slightly overweight, covered in freckles, his face twisted with terror. Though he knew the violence was his fault, he didn’t dare speak a word.
“Hmph… looks like he’s stopped fighting back,” one thug muttered.
Another added, “Who does this little middle schooler think he is, interfering with Lao Tzu’s business?”
The youth on the ground lay motionless, battered beyond movement, though still conscious.
The four thugs paused their kicks and punches, pulling out cigarettes.
“Hey… fatty,” one thug turned to the boy in the corner, “you know this guy?”
“N-no… I don’t,” the boy stammered.
“Hah!” The thug spat, kicking the youth on the ground one last time. “Freaking hero complex! Haha!”
“Hmph,” another exhaled smoke. “I’ve only heard of heroes saving beauties, never heroes rescuing pigs.”
The group erupted in laughter.
A few seconds later, one thug spat on the ground and stomped on the youth’s head. “Kid, you’ve got guts coming here…” He pointed at the boy in the corner with his cigarette. “That brat’s been volunteering to be our cash machine. What’s it got to do with you?!”
The beaten youth had intervened upon seeing the thugs extort someone.
“Hey! Wait, I just noticed—this kid’s wearing branded shoes,” one thug remarked. “This pair alone costs over a thousand credits.”
“Counterfeit?” another asked.
“Nah,” the first replied. “Look at his clean face and branded clothes under that school uniform…” He sneered. “Probably some rich kid—Young Noble Brother Ar Se, maybe?”
“Ah, a spoiled rich kid?”
“Heh… little master, think you’re so noble, huh?” A thug crouched, yanking the youth’s hair. “Lao Tzu hates hypocrites like you the most.” He stood, picking up a rusted iron pipe.
“Hey… don’t kill him!” Even his accomplice looked uneasy. The youth was already near unconsciousness. Striking him with a hard object could be fatal.
“Relax,” the thug grinned, gripping the pipe as he approached. “Tall, rich, and handsome—you love playing hero and stealing the spotlight, right? Today, Brother’s gonna ruin your pretty face so you’ll never be pretty again.” He raised the pipe…
Five minutes later…
Feng Bu Jue, wearing the same school uniform as Wang Tan Zhi, appeared at the alley’s entrance. He muttered, “Ugh… stayed after school again… Xiao Tan probably went home already…”
As he grumbled, his gaze swept the alley—and for a moment, Feng Bu Jue felt his blood run cold.
He saw… his best friend Wang Tan Zhi, gripping an iron pipe, repeatedly striking an adult’s head.
The adult lay on his back, right leg twitching violently—but silent. Perhaps he’d already lost the ability to scream.
Three more adults lay in the alley, faces bloodied, limbs grotesquely bent at ten unnatural angles, clearly shattered.
“Hey! Hey!” Feng Bu Jue shouted, sprinting forward.
Hearing the voice, Xiao Tan looked up.
Feng Bu Jue would never forget that moment… It was an expression he’d never seen on Wang Tan Zhi’s face before.
Calm. Hollow. As if he’d seen through the world’s illusions, aged beyond his years. This was no expression for a youth.
Blood still dripped from his cheek, yet he showed no concern—no pity—as he mercilessly struck the helpless figure’s head again and again.
Feng Bu Jue saw clearly—Wang Tan Zhi’s pupils shimmered with a faint, eerie crimson glow…
…
“I didn’t expect you to force me to use that move…” Seven Kill approached Xiao Tan. “That was my ace for the Butterfly Arena…” He exhaled. “You deserve praise. But… I have to say… When it comes to martial arts, I’ve never lost to anyone. So… my apologies!”
He raised his arm, aiming a punch at the fallen Xiao Tan.
But… the punch missed.
“Hm?” Seven Kill paused. “Still moving…?” He looked up, scanning for his opponent. “Or should I say… you haven’t given up yet?”
“Hmph…” A chilling, mocking laugh echoed. “You claim martial arts superiority over all?” Xiao Tan’s voice shifted, growing arrogant. “You?!”
(End of Chapter)
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